


you put me on and said I was your favorite

by lilythesilly



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A bunch of shameless fluff, But also sad feelings, David Rose is a good person who loves his husband, Married af, Patrick wants to buy a new sweater, Patrick wears David's clothes, and has a lot of feelings, but only for a little bit!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilythesilly/pseuds/lilythesilly
Summary: Patrick knows what he looks like. He’s not completely clueless. He knows he looks like a model for a J-Crew family catalogue. And that the most adventurous thing he’s ever worn is what he’s wearing now and that’s...not saying a lot.__________________Patrick wants to buy a new sweater and needs a little help.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 225





	you put me on and said I was your favorite

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very self indulgent fic that started because I thought "what if Patrick wants to buy a new sweater but is nervous so David helps him" and then I messaged [nontoxic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nontoxic/pseuds/nontoxic) who immediately said "omg do it" and well...here we are.
> 
> title from "cardigan" by Taylor Swift.

It starts with laundry day. 

Patrick doesn’t really like going anywhere on his days off anymore, instead using it as time to work on tasks around the house that David isn’t a fan of. 

His face is buried in one of the planters trying to prune a particularly difficult foxglove when his phone rings. He glances over to where it’s sitting on the ground and pulls off of one of his gloves so he can answer. “Tell me there’s not a moth in the store.” 

“Oh god no, can you imagine?” He can imagine the full body shiver that just went through David’s body at the thought. 

Patrick puts it on speaker and sets it on the edge of the planter so he can put his glove back on. “So what’s up? You’ve only been gone for a few hours, you can’t miss me already.” 

“I always miss you when you’re not here,” David says dismissively, like he didn’t just overwhelm Patrick in the middle of a Thursday. “But that’s not why. Shauna just called and needs to switch tomorrow’s pickup to this afternoon.”

“Oh, well I can go.” Patrick says and puts the shears back in his gardening tool box.

“No, it’s your day off! I can run over during my lunch break. I’ll cut it down to an hour and a half.” 

Patrick laughs. “Ok well, your lunch break is only supposed to be _an_ hour and really, I don’t mind. I’ve crossed basically everything off of my to do list for today anyway.” 

“Then go on a hike! Or read a book. Or isn’t the baseball game on?” David huffs. “The whole point of a day off is not to do any work.” 

“I can stop by Shauna’s and still be home in time to catch the game.” Patrick drops the tool box in the shed and heads back inside. “And the only other option is to close the store down so you can go out there, and we can’t afford that.” 

David clicks his tongue and Patrick already knows what he’s gonna say. “We also can’t afford to pay you overtime, hence the day off.” 

Patrick shrugs and heads upstairs to their bedroom. “Then consider this a favor.” 

“Ooh, what kind of favor?” David’s voice goes low and scratchy and Patrick has to clear his throat, hoping that David made this call in the back room. 

“The kind of favor that one business partner does for the other,” he says and peels off his clothes to throw in their hamper. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll head out soon but I need to shower first.” 

David scoffs like Patrick has personally offended him. “Ok it is _very_ rude of you to mention that to me when I’m not home to enjoy it.” There’s a pause before he says, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, David. I’ll come drop them off at the store after. I love you.” Patrick says and turns the shower on. 

“I love you too.” David says before he hangs up. 

Once Patrick is out of the shower he’s presented with the dilemma. The only task he hasn’t done for the day is picking up the drycleaning, which means the list of things he can wear to visit a vendor is suddenly very short. 

He walks into the closet in their room that he shares with David (well, semi-shares. Patrick has a bar for the shirts and sweaters that he can’t put in their dresser) and stares at the sweaters he has hanging. Blue crew neck...blue v-neck... navy blue crewneck...green crew neck...another blue crew neck. His eyes glance up at the bar above his that hold some of David’s sweaters and takes in the various lengths, fabrics and shapes before he gets oddly overwhelmed.

He swallows the lump that’s suddenly appeared in his throat because these two closet bars look like they have no business being in the same space together. One bar looks like it’s holding pieces of art, and the other looks like it’s holding just regular clothes.

He sighs and grabs the blue crew neck and a slimmer cut pair of black jeans to make him feel better. There’s a part of him that wishes he had the confidence to wear something like the Helmut Lang mohawk hoodie out to run errands—but he could never wear it the way David does. 

He’s standing in front of their bed, wearing only his jeans and staring down at the sweater laid out on the comforter. It’s a nice sweater, a _comfortable_ sweater—but the thought of putting it on makes him feel itchy. His eyes glance over into their hallway before he leaves and pads into the office, where David’s other closet is. 

It’s not as big as the one in their room, but there are enough bars for David to store the sweaters he doesn’t wear as often. The clothes in their room are organized by fit, fabric and nationality, but the ones here are organized by designer, pattern and likely wearability. He looks through the middle bar that holds all of David’s sweaters from the designer with the thunderbolts ("Oh my god, Patrick that’s Neil Barrett!" David yells in his head) before he stops. He pulls out the grey sweater and runs his hand over the black and white block that runs down the sleeve. It’s in the least likely to wear section of the closet so he grabs it and pulls it on. 

It doesn’t sit the same way it does on David, but it still looks nice. He glances in the mirror hanging on the door and notices he’s standing a little taller and he feels a little giddy at the small confidence boost it seems to have given him. He takes a final look and murmurs an “Alright” like David does when he thinks Patrick isn’t looking before he heads back into their room to grab his keys, phone and wallet.

He makes it to Shauna’s in pretty good time and she meets him on her porch when he pulls in. “Oh my god, thank you Patrick for coming on such short notice. My manufacturer is having an issue with the bottles so I have to run up there and I didn’t want to leave you guys empty handed until next week.” 

Patrick grabs the box of body milk and puts it in his trunk before grabbing the smaller box of eye serum and putting that in as well, “It’s no problem, honestly. We really appreciate it.” 

Shauna waves him off, “Not as much as I do. You guys are my favorite. I just hope next time I can actually have you stay for dinner instead of running off like a crazy person.” 

Patrick laughs. “We’d like that. David has been obsessed with that face mask sample you gave him last time and he’d love to pick your brain about getting it in the store.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I’ve been working on another one, so I’ll make sure it’s ready for testing by then.” Shauna glances at him and squints. “Is that a new sweater?” she asks.

Patrick looks down and remembers he’s wearing the Neil Barrett sweater. “Oh, no. It’s David’s. It’s laundry day so most of my stuff is still at the dry cleaners.” 

“I wish my laundry day’s looked like that!” Shauna laughs. “You look really good.” 

Patrick flushes. “Thank you, Shauna. And thanks for the—” He breaks off and gestures at the boxes.

“Oh it’s no problem,” Shauna says. “Thank you for coming to get it earlier. I’ll make sure to put in a couple extra units as a thank you for next time.” 

After he leaves Patrick stops at the dry cleaner in Elmdale to grab their stuff and then to the bakery across the street to grab a sour cherry strudel for David and a strawberry rhubarb danish for himself. The coffee will be cold by the time he makes it back to Schitt’s Creek so he makes a note to stop by the cafe before he heads to the store. 

He notices a new store window when he leaves the bakery. It looks like a boutique so Patrick peers through the window. It’s a nice, open space with clothing racks lining the walls and tables down the center. It looks like the kind of place David might be interested in shopping at if one of his eBay auctions didn’t pan out. 

One of the sales associates looks up from where they're folding and makes eye contact with Patrick before giving a soft wave. Patrick blushes like he’s been caught and shyly waves back. The associate stares at him for another second before going back to folding and Patrick hurriedly walks back to his car.

After he stops by the cafe he parks behind the store and unlocks the door so he can leave the boxes in the back room. He hears David ringing someone up at the register and quietly slips out to grab the coffee and bag from the bakery and quietly comes back in, shutting the door as gently as he can. It sounds like the customer is gone but David hasn’t come to the back yet, which means he hasn’t heard him. 

He slowly creeps over and moves the curtain as quietly as he can—considering it's on a metal rod. But David is so engrossed in whatever he’s working on in his journal that he still hasn’t noticed Patrick. 

“Hi David.” Patrick murmurs over his shoulder and David jumps almost ten feet in the air. 

“ _Jesus fucking Christ_ ,” he shrieks and Patrick is wheezing because he’s laughing so hard. David turns around to glare at him. “You are an awful man.” 

“But I brought you coffee and a pastry,” he says innocently, holding both of the items up to David.

He grabs both and eyes the bag, “Is this the—”

“Sour cherry strudel from the bakery in Elmdale? Yes it is.” 

David huffs and takes a sip of his coffee. “I guess you aren’t awful then. Just terrible.” 

Patrick tells David about his visit with Shauna and extra units and face mask sample she promised for next time. “I should send you on vendor pickups more often,” David hums and then pauses. His eyes roam over Patrick and he tries to stand a little straighter under David's gaze. “Is that my sweater?” 

Patrick nods and suddenly feels smaller than he did a minute ago. “Yeah, um. I didn’t really have anything to wear because I hadn’t picked up the dry cleaning yet and it was in the least-likely-to-wear section of the closet, so I thought it would be ok.” 

David smirks and wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders to pull him closer. “It is _definitely_ ok.” He says and kisses Patrick slowly while Patrick’s hands find their way around David’s waist. He savors the way David gently sucks on his bottom lip before pulling away. “You look like a regular David Gandy.”

“Actually it’s Neil Barrett.” Patrick murmurs against his lips.

David sucks in a breath and steps back, like he needs to put a physical barrier between himself and what Patrick just said. “That might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He comes back over to Patrick and runs his hands over his shoulders. “This does look really good on you. It’s actually a little rude how much better this sweater looks on you than it does on me.”

Patrick leans up against the counter. “I actually really like it. What kind of material is this?” He takes a pause and glances up at David through his lashes. “Is it...husband material?” 

David grimaces and says, “It’s not and I’d like a divorce please,” with absolutely no bite.

Patrick pulls him back into the back room and lets David press him up against one of the shelves so they can make out some more until the bell over the door chimes. 

David drops his head onto Patrick’s chest and sighs. “I know,” Patrick says lightly. “How dare anyone come into our store while it’s open to buy something.” 

He tilts David’s head up with his index finger and kisses the pout off of his lips. “I’ll unpack and log the boxes from Shauna tomorrow, so you can leave them. I’ll see you at home tonight.” He pecks David’s lips one more time because they’re married so he can kiss him as many times as he wants. “Now go help that customer before they leave and take their business with them.” 

David rolls his eyes. “ _Fine._ ” 

* * *

Patrick is getting ready for a day of vendor pickups when David slips in front of him and sits on their bed, looking up at him expectantly. 

Patrick kisses him quickly and smooths his hands over his shoulders. “As much as I would love to, we do unfortunately have to go to work this morning.” 

David rolls his eyes and smooths the sweater he’s holding across his lap. “I was just thinking,” he says lightly, “that since you liked wearing my Neil Barrett sweater so much, you might be interested in another one.” 

Patrick grabs the sweater when David hands it to him. It’s a simple black sweater (that probably costs more than all of his combined) with white stripes circling the cuffs. “Really?” He asks, smoothing his fingers over the white stripes. 

David hums. “I haven’t worn this in a really long time and I’m sure it would love a day out on the town.” He bites the corner of his lip in a way that tells Patrick he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I like seeing you in my clothes. You look happy— _confident_.” 

Patrick slips on the sweater and laughs because David’s eyes have glazed over. “I feel more confident. I mean,” he steps forward between David’s legs and cups his jaw. “David Rose wore this. That makes it a pretty special sweater. Very exclusive.” 

His husband sucks in a breath, like he’s trying to actually swallow his feelings. “Ok you can’t say things like that to me and then send me off for a day of working by myself!” 

Vendor pickups go off without a hitch, and since Shauna is his last vendor pickup for the day he stops by the bakery in Elmdale to pick up a fig and honey tart for dessert tonight. He also grabs another danish and strudel for him and David to reheat for breakfast for tomorrow. 

He puts the box in the front seat of his car and looks up and sees the boutique from last week. Patrick stares at the window display for a few moments before making a decision. He locks his car and walks into the shop. It’s empty and quiet, which immediately puts Patrick on edge. The sales associate—the one from the window—looks up and smiles at him. 

“Welcome in! Let me know if you need anything!” He says and resumes stocking cufflinks in the display case by the cash. 

Patrick looks around and tries to look aloof and confident (ok, David. He tries to look like David) while he shops. He’s looking at a few sweaters on the table in the middle when the sales associate— _Kevin_ , his name tag reads—comes up to him. “Are you finding everything ok?” 

Something coils in Patrick’s stomach and he flushes. He knows this guy is just trying to be helpful and do his job, but Patrick all of a sudden feels like he’s intruding somewhere he shouldn’t be. “Yeah, I am, thank you.” 

Kevin smiles at him. “I love your sweater.” 

Patrick grins, “Thank you. It’s, um, my husband’s.” 

Kevin’s eyebrows jump up involuntarily. “Oh!” He says and Patrick feels his stomach drop. “Well, he has great taste.” 

Patrick clears his throat—trying to swallow his feelings like David tried to this morning and nods half-heartedly. “He really does. This place is right up his alley.” 

Kevin nods. “Well, I’ll be up at the register when you’re ready.” 

When he walks away Patrick tries to steady his breathing and focus on the table of sweaters. He’s looking between a yellow one and a cherry colored one when he feels the familiar tug of panic snag in his chest, but he pushes it down and picks up the cherry sweater—it’s a nice wool knit with a ribbed neckline and cuffs. 

Kevin's surprised little "Oh!" plays on loop in his mind and he tries to push it out of his thoughts.

He focuses back on the sweater, staring so hard he might actually burn a hole through the chest, until he feels tears pricking behind his eyes and needs to put it down. The thought of walking out of here _without_ anything makes him feel even _more_ anxious, so he just grabs the first one he can find in his size. 

He puts it on the counter to pay so quickly he doesn’t even register what color it is when Kevin puts it in the bag. 

Kevin gives him a soft smile after he pays. “Thank you for coming in. I hope you come back soon—you should bring your husband!” 

Patrick can tell Kevin feels badly about earlier and is trying to make it better, but that somehow makes him feel worse. He manages to force a smile. “Thank you, I will. Have a good night.” 

He’s proud of the fact that he makes it into the car and onto the highway before he lets out the breath he feels like he’s been holding forever and allows the tears to finally splash down his cheeks. 

He knows that the sales associate was just trying to be nice and make a sale (Patrick does it all the time) but he also unintentionally poked a sore spot that Patrick didn’t even know he had. 

Patrick knows what he looks like. He’s not completely clueless. He knows he looks like a model for a J-Crew family catalogue. And that the most adventurous thing he’s ever worn is what he’s wearing now and that’s...not saying a lot.

A lot of it is introspective, Patrick projecting his insecurities onto an item of clothing. 

And it’s not even about the color blue specifically. He likes blue. It’s a nice color and it looks nice on him. It’s _nice_. He grimaces when he thinks about it. It’s almost how he used to describe his relationship with Rachel. Ok, no it’s exactly how he used to describe his relationship with Rachel: it’s nice. She’s nice. They looked nice together (like one of those couples that are in the photos that come with a brand new frame). But it’s not what he wanted.

He huffs out another steadying breath and pulls out his phone to get out of his own head. His emotions are still too close to the surface to call David—David would ask him how he was and Patrick would immediately start crying again—so he settles on pulling up Spotify.

“ _I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire. You come to me, come to me wild and wired…_ ”

* * *

The Lincoln is in the driveway when he gets home after he drops everything off at the store, so once he parks he flips down his visor and tries to compose himself to look like he didn’t just have a complete breakdown in his car an hour ago.

He grabs the box from the bakery and the bag from the boutique and makes his way inside. 

It’s like the afternoon has melted away when he steps through the door. He can see David in the kitchen looking through the window on the oven. 

“Wow,” he whistles and sets the bag down on the coffee table in the living room, bringing the box into the kitchen. “You’re home first _and_ making dinner? Did I forget a monthly anniversary or something?

David scoffs. “Please, let’s not start those again. Yearly wedding anniversaries are sufficient enough,” Patrick hands David the box to put on the counter behind him before leaning in to kiss him and letting all of the tension in his shoulders disappear. “Also, don’t get too excited about me making dinner,” David says when he pulls away. “I just bought a frozen lasagna from the store – because for a moment I thought I could make a real one and then I got very scared.” 

“Mm,” Patrick hums and pulls him in for another kiss. “Sounds like it’ll go great with the tart I picked up for desert.” 

David closes his eyes and sighs. “You’re the best.” 

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Better than all the rest?” 

David rolls his eyes. “Ha ha,” he says and grabs the oven mitts when the oven timer dings. 

Dinner is great, and dessert is even better (it can’t not be when he gets to kiss his husband between bites of pastry and ice cream). 

After they’ve cleared away the dishes they grab their drinks to flop down on the couch in the living room. Patrick tucks himself into David’s side and nuzzles into the space on David’s neck underneath his ear that Patrick has claimed as his own. David’s hand comes up to card through his hair and he feels his cheek drop on top of his head.

Evidently his emotions are still pretty close to the surface, because Patrick’s throat feels tight and he feels tears burning behind his eyes again. It still blows his mind, after a few years and a year of marriage that David chose him. He looked at Patrick and said ‘ _Yes. Him. I want to spend my life with him_ ’. 

Patrick blinks back the pressure behind his eyes and reaches forward for the remote before he gets completely overwhelmed. 

He forgets about the shopping bag until hears David gasp and look over at him with an excited grin. “What is _this_?” David picks up the bag with a little shimmy. “Did someone take a little break and go _shopping_?” 

Patrick feels that tight feeling in his chest come back. “Yeah. Um. There’s a new boutique next to the bakery in Elmdale and I figured I would...I don’t know, switch it up?” 

David hums in approval. “Yes. I am all for you expanding your fashion horizons.” 

David opens the bag and Patrick immediately feels the need to say, “I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it—I mean I was really torn and so I kind of just picked the first one I saw so I don’t even remember—”

David puts a hand on his shoulder and slides it up to cup his jaw, running his thumb against his bottom lip. He gives Patrick a reassuring smile and Patrick takes a deep breath. David bounces in anticipation when he opens the bag and pulls the sweater out. “This is nice!” He says and runs his hands over the material. “The stitching is really good, and the fabric is soft…” But Patrick can’t hear what he’s saying because all he can look at is the color of the sweater.

It’s blue. 

Of course without thinking, he chose another fucking blue sweater.

Patrick feels his lower lip wobble and he drops his head into his hands before a sob makes its way out of his throat.

“Patrick! _Honey!_ What—” David sounds alarmed and he hears him shift around on the couch before he hears the _thunk_ of David’s knees hitting the floor which makes Patrick feel even worse because he’s wearing his Rick Owens pants with the long drapey pockets and they are _not_ meant to be on hardwood floors. 

He feels David tug on his wrists and move over his body like he’s checking for injury. “Honey, talk to me. What happened—what’s wrong?” 

Patrick finally raises his head from his hands and David’s immediately move to wipe the tears away until he’s just holding his face. Patrick can’t find a way to put everything he’s feeling into words so all he manages to say is, “It’s blue.” 

David should be laughing at him—because it’s silly, him _crying_ over a blue sweater—but all he says is, “Ok. Why does that upset you?” 

Patrick swallows. “Because it’s—I mean it’s—” he takes another breath and tries again. “It’s _nice_.” 

David blinks. “You are nice.”

Patrick isn’t explaining it right. “No, like it’s _dependable_.” 

David looks like he still doesn’t understand. “But you are dependable. Do you not want to be dependable?” 

“No, I just—” he huffs and tries to hide his face in his hands again but David grabs them and pulls them close to his chest. He pauses again before saying, “it’s _predictable_. And I don’t want to be predictable—I want to be you.” 

David lets out a surprised laugh. “Well I’d like to think I’m a _little_ predictable at this point.” 

Patrick squeezes David’s hands. “Not with your clothes. You never wear the same thing twice in a year unless it’s intentional and you—the way you carry yourself in your clothes, _I want that_. I want to feel like that.”

“Like what?” David asks patiently.

“Like I’m confident in the way I look. And...proud of who I am. Because I am. And I want to feel like that all the time, and I want people to see that. I mean all they probably see now is some business major who probably has a wife and two kids and hates his job—” 

“Well they would be wrong. I mean, they would be right about the business major, but they’d be wrong about all the other stuff.” David says and finally gets up off of the floor to sit back on the couch next to Patrick and presses a kiss to his jaw. “What brought this on?” 

“There was a guy who worked at the store—”

“Oh no,” David winces. “Did you get Pretty Woman-ed?” 

Patrick huffs out a laugh. “No. It was...it was nothing. I just, he asked about my sweater—”

“—which you look _very_ hot in—” 

Patrick leans into David, “Thank you,” he murmurs and rests his head on his shoulder. “But I told him it was yours—my husband’s—” his stomach still flutters at that word, “and he...I don’t know he was surprised, I guess. And it just made me think about...how people see me. But mostly what...they _don’t_ see.” 

He feels David hum and pull him closer so he can rest his head on top of Patrick’s head. “Well, can I tell you what I see?” Patrick nods and feels David press a kiss into his hair. “I see someone who has delicious shoulders,” he says and Patrick laughs wetly. “And I see...someone who is _nice_ and _dependable_ and inviting. Someone who is…welcoming, and kind, and considerate,” David clears his throat. “Who also likes to bait his husband because he thinks he’s funny,” David huffs and pinches his side and Patrick turns to hide his smile in David’s chest. “But mostly I see someone who is so much more than what he seems on the surface—and who looks _fucking great_ in blue.” 

Patrick feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest so he just looks up and says, “Thank you, David.” 

“Anytime.” David says, and then adds, “For the record, I know I just said it—but I would like to reiterate that I am very glad that you are both nice and dependable. Because there is only room for one unstable spouse in this marriage and unfortunately I’ve already claimed it.” 

Later when they’re getting ready for bed Patrick hops up onto the counter where David is doing his nighttime skin-care routine and watches him work the product into his skin. “That shop actually had some really nice things,” he says when David takes a break to let his serums set. “There were actually some things that I really liked and didn’t get a chance to get. But, um, maybe next time I go—” he says and messes with the string on his pajama pants, “maybe you could, um, come with me?” 

David gives him a look like he knows how significant this simple question actually is and how uncomfortable it’s making Patrick feel so he just nods and says, “Ok.” and Patrick wants to marry him all over again. 

* * *

The store is closed on Mondays and David has instituted a ‘no getting out of bed until at least 9:30 am’ rule to curb Patrick’s need to clean their house every chance he gets. 

And if it means that he wakes up this David’s mouth around his dick—well he’s not about to _complain_. 

Once he is able to get out of bed and get ready for the day he’s searching through his drawer for a shirt when David comes out of their closet with something on a hanger. 

Patrick looks at the blue button up and laughs. “Is this what we’re doing now? I wear your clothes and you wear mine?” 

David wrinkles his nose. “No, I did that once and Stevie called me a youth pastor,” he says and lays the shirt down on their bed. “I was just thinking about what you said about wanting to look as confident as you feel, and um—”

He clears this throat and bites his lip, which lets Patrick know he’s about to say something _very_ sentimental. David looks up and gives him a crooked smile. “I was remembering a guy—in a blue button up almost exactly like this—being very snippy and sure of himself while he questioned my business before giving me his business card because he thought I—and I quote—‘ _needed it_ ’. And I remember being a little jealous of how confident he was.” 

Patrick feels his chest warm and he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to say other than, “ _David_.”

Patrick walks around to the other side of the bed because there’s too much space between them and Patrick needs to kiss him like now.

David bumps his forehead against Patrick’s and smiles coyly. “So were you being snippy just to rile me up so you could give me your phone number? We’re married now, you can tell me if you did.”

Patrick grins and leans in to kiss him again. “That was just a happy coincidence.” 

David hums and leans around him to pick up the shirt. “Now get dressed. Because if I continue with _this_ ,” he gestures to Patrick’s body and let’s his hand fall on his chest, “we will not get anything done today and I was promised a shopping spree.” 

Patrick watches David go and takes the shirt off the hanger. “Is that what I said? Because I think I mentioned _one_ sweater.” 

David turns and leans against the door. “Mm, I’m sorry you're so far away that I can’t hear you.” 

* * *

After they finish running most of their errands, and after they’ve taken a break at the little bakery by the dry cleaners where David eats not one, not two, not even three—but _four_ separate pastries (“We’re sitting in a _bakery_ , Patrick. What am I supposed to do, just have _one_? Do I look like Oliver Twist?”) they make their way into the boutique.

Patrick’s suspicions about this being a place David would like is confirmed when they walk in and David breathes, “Mmhmm, yes. This feels right.” 

David is breezing through the racks when Kevin comes up to them. “Hey, you’re back! This must be your husband.” 

Patrick preens a little and nods. “Yes, this is David. And I’m Patrick.” 

David eyes Kevin and says, “Do you have this in a different print?” in a way that makes even Patrick shiver at how icy it is.

Kevin shakes his head and stutters, “N-no. I’m sorry.” David is still staring at him so he says, “But I’ll, um. Be up at the front, if you need any help with anything.”

Once he walks away David puts a hand on his bicep. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m always ok when I’m with you.” Patrick says and David scowls like he does whenever Patrick says something sincere in public and he can’t react properly. “You can also call off the third degree. I _genuinely_ think he’s here to help.” 

David purses his lips and examines the hem of the shirt. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he says and holds it up for Patrick to see. “Now, Patrick this is what a _correct_ sleeve length looks like. It is very clearly a short sleeved polo.”

“Ha ha.” Patrick rolls his eyes and grabs the shirt to run his fingers over the floral pattern on the collar of the black shirt. “I like this.” 

David nods and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement. “Mm, I thought you might.” 

“Can I—um,” Patrick feels shy and David reaches out to rub his arm soothingly. “Can I show you what I was looking at last time?” 

David nods and follows Patrick over to the table in the middle of the store, grabbing the cherry sweater from last time. He shows it to David and immediately feels the need to justify his choice. “I really like the way it feels and the neckline is a different pattern and um—”

David grabs the sweater from him and holds it up. “This is a lovely color. I see why you picked it. Do you want to try it on?” 

Patrick nods and heads over to the open fitting room. He feels a little childish when he asks, “Do you want to come in with me?” 

David’s eyes widen and he shimmies a bit. “As fun as that would be, I have been waiting to do a romcom style makeover montage with you for a _very_ long time,” he says, kissing Patrick on the cheek and nudging him towards the fitting room. “Go. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Patrick comes out of the dressing room and David starts nodding enthusiastically. “Yes—just. Yes.” 

Patrick turns to glance in the mirror and David wraps his arms around him from behind, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “This is a very nice color on you,” he murmurs quietly in his ear before stepping back and so he can run his hands over Patrick’s shoulders and down his arms, “and it’s a nice fit. It shows off your body in the _best_ way.” 

Patrick flushes and looks at himself in the mirror. The color reminds him of a black cherry soda and in the light almost looks like a very dark pink. David’s right, it does fit well and shows off his body in a way that his other sweaters don’t. It’s also probably the boldest thing he’s ever put on.

He smiles shyly. “I want to get it.” 

David looks at him like he can’t decide whether he wants to cry or hug him, and settles for the latter. “Then we will get it.” 

“Let me just change and then we can leave.” 

David puts a hand out to stop him and frowns. “I thought you said there were other things that you liked?” 

Patrick shrugs. “I mean, sure but—” he stops and tries to do the mental math of their monthly budget in his head.

David probably knows what he's thinking because he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his temple. “I would be willing to share my clothing budget with you...if that’s something you would like to explore.”

Not for the first time today (or this month, or even this year), Patrick wants to cry because he’s overcome by how much his husband loves him. “You’d do that for me?” He asks, and knows his eyes have probably turned into actual hearts.

David shrugs it off like it’s not as big of a deal as it is. “Yeah well, don’t get too excited—I have extra room in the budget this month because a few of my eBay auctions didn’t pan out the way I wanted them to.” 

Patrick also gets David’s eBay notifications, so he knows it’s a lie. He turns around in David’s arms and wraps his arms around his waist. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a nice person?” 

David smirks. “I thought I was a good person?” 

“That too.” 

* * *

It’s cold inside their house, but not cold enough to justify turning on their heater, so Patrick settles on pulling on a hoodie after he finishes his day-off to do list.

He’s pulled the hood up all the way and wrapped himself in a blanket in the living room when David gets home and immediately squawks in indignation. “I’m sorry—what is _this_?”

Patrick shrugs. “I’m cold.” 

David scoffs and drops his work bag on the floor so he can come to stand in front of Patrick—blocking the Maple Leafs highlights from yesterday’s game. “Um excuse, me that is _Helmut Lang_. you can’t just," he waves his arms around frantically, " _wear it around the house_!” 

Patrick pauses the tv and raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell me you once wore it in a field on an Amish farm?”

David huffs and waves his hands like it’s an explanation. “We just bought you a bunch of new sweaters, why are you still wearing mine?” 

Patrick clicks his tongue and adjusts the hood of the sweater. “What can I say, David? Sometimes you just need to wear a sweater with a fuzzy mohawk and not have your husband judge you.”

David rolls his eyes but still leans down to kiss him hello. “Ok well, I still think it is very rude that you look better in all of my sweaters than I do." He sniffs and sighs dramatically. "I may have to browse a few eBay auctions to make myself feel better.”

Patrick laughs. “Why don’t you bring the laptop down here? There might be something I want too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, I'm very suprised that of the thousands of words here, I only mentioned the word 'sweater' 37 times (or so google docs has told me.) 
> 
> Here are the sweaters of David's that Patrick borrows: [1](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/409053578654320347/) [2](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/neil-barrett-striped-cuff-knit-jumper-item-15631999.aspx?storeid=10207)
> 
> I'm on Tumblr, come say [hi](https://lilythesilly.tumblr.com)!


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